


Next of Kin

by wendelah1



Series: Demons [2]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 2, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-22
Updated: 2013-02-22
Packaged: 2017-12-03 06:14:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/695118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wendelah1/pseuds/wendelah1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A character study/episode fill-in for 4.23, "Demons." Scully drives Mulder home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Next of Kin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amalnahurriyeh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amalnahurriyeh/gifts).



> Spoilers for the series through "Demons."
> 
> Thank you to my dear friend, estella_c for her patience and editing skill.

Four rounds fired.

Seated on a metal folding chair, her eyes closed against the bright overhead lighting, Scully could still hear the sound of the gunshots in her head. Mulder had wanted to kill her and himself. Why hadn't he? Instead, he'd fired those four rounds into the wall of his parents' cottage.

God, she'd been careless. Given what had happened to the Cassandras, she should have locked that weapon in the trunk of the rental car as soon as he'd been released from the Providence jail.

"Doctor Scully."

She opened her eyes. The consulting neurologist, Dr. Chavez, was standing by the privacy curtain. Mulder was sound asleep on the ER bed, snoring. She'd been sitting by his side for hours.  It felt like days.

"I'd like to speak with you privately if possible," Scully said.

Dr. Chavez's eyes narrowed slightly. "You're Agent Mulder's next of kin?"

Scully thought about the confrontation between Teena Mulder and her son. "Technically, no, that would be his mother, but I have his medical power of attorney."

Dr. Chavez shrugged. "Fine.  There really isn't much to tell. All of his tests are essentially normal. Other than the memory loss, so is his exam."

Thank God.

"Even assuming he has no more seizures, he'll need follow-up with a neurologist closer to home," Dr. Chavez continued.

Tell me something I don't already know. "I'll make sure Agent Mulder gets the care he needs." 

"I'd like to keep him overnight, have him evaluated by psychiatry in the morning," Dr. Chavez said, lowering his voice and looking at Mulder.

"Do you really think that's necessary?" Scully said softly, her eyes following the doctor's.

"Dr. Scully, Agent Mulder let a quack doctor inject him with a powerful anesthetic and drill a hole in his skull. Then he did it again, less than a day later, despite knowing the consequences." Dr. Chavez raised his hands in the air. "You know that's not normal behavior."

She couldn't argue with that, but she knew what Mulder would say. "Sometimes the only sane response to an insane world is insanity." She repeated more firmly, "I'll make sure he gets the care he needs."

Dr. Chavez looked hard at her. "I'm not letting him go, not without some assurance that he won't end up killing himself. I'm sure you'd feel the same way in my position."

"Of course." If only it were that simple. After today--really, since the beginning--Mulder couldn't be predicted.

~/~/~

Mulder easily convinced the psychiatrist that he was not a danger to himself or to others. Scully didn't know whether to be angry or relieved. He was released from the ER soon after. Skinner requested a full report and put Mulder on administrative leave.

On the drive back to Washington, while Mulder dozed in the passenger seat, she thought about what to say. She couldn't protect him from the consequences of his actions. Skinner would hold him accountable. He couldn't afford not to.

She pulled off the Turnpike so that she could stretch her legs and get gas. When she left the cashier, Mulder was leaning over the sedan cleaning off the insect-splattered windshield with long, careful strokes. She'd purchased a large coffee for herself and a large bottle of water for Mulder.

"I can drive the rest of the way," he remarked to the squeegee.

"I don't think that's a good idea. It's only been 24 hours since you were...treated by Dr. Goldstein. You might have another seizure." She handed him his water, got back into the car and set the coffee into the holder. After a couple of seconds, Mulder followed.

"You picked the only rest stop in Jersey without a Burger King. Please tell me you didn't do that on purpose." He adjusted his seat.

"Are you hungry, Mulder? We'll get you fed." She pulled back onto the highway. Sure enough, only a few miles down the road, there was a Burger King. Soon she was watching Mulder wolf down his Whopper while she picked at a broiled chicken sandwich. Nothing had tasted right since her chemotherapy. Well, at least that was over with, unless there was a new clinical trial somewhere. Her doctor had promised he'd look into it but she ought to do a search herself.

Scully wasn't afraid of dying. She was afraid what would come before it: pain, loss of sight and memory, loss of function and independence. And she was frightened for Mulder, of how he'd react, of what he'd do. She shuddered, trying not to think of the possibilities. Well, he'd be on leave for some time, thanks to the injuries he'd suffered and those rounds he'd fired. Maybe that would give her the time she'd need to prepare him. He wouldn't want one but he would need a new partner, preferably before she was too sick to help with the transition. She'd talk to Skinner first.

Mulder had put down his burger and was studying her. "When was the last time you slept?"

"Saturday." She returned his gaze.

"And today is...?"

"Monday." She picked up her sandwich and took a bite. The bun was tasteless and soggy, the chicken over-cooked. God, she hated fast food.

"Scully," he began.

She was not in the mood. "No, Mulder. I don't want to stop for the night. Today was a personal day but I have a meeting with Skinner tomorrow." And she still had no idea what to say to him about Mulder.

He looked abashed. "I was going to say I'm sorry. For making you drive up here. For putting you through this." He stared at the remains of his dinner. "I think I'm done here."

He wasn't the only one. She put down her sandwich, wiped her mouth. "Let's get you home, Mulder."

  


**Author's Note:**

> The image screen capture is by Chrisnu, but the edit is mine.


End file.
